Passengers
by ThomE.Gemcity-06
Summary: Dexter had more than just a Dark Passenger... a/n: Includes Sam and Dean in the end, focuses on the "Dexter" of things.


**a/n: I recently found out that "Dexter" is based on a book, said book I just found. This will be my first "Dexter" fic, I'm not sure how it's going to turn out. I've just been recently privy to the sixth season on television and that's it. It's going to be a crossover with "Supernatural", I've written many for them so I hope that I do the Winchesters right- but both Dean and Sam will be a little out of context**** and only mentioned at the very end****. This will more focus****ed**** on "Dexter's"-Dexter than it will on "****Supernatural****". It is also in blood spatter expert Dexter Morgan****'s POV****. I hope that I'm not building this up to something that it is more than likely not going to be.**** I probably am so don't get excited**** Guess who's-who****!**

**I will also be using something****'****s from the book: "Darkly Dreaming Dexter" by Jeff Lindsay.**

**Summary:**_ Dexter had more than just a Dark Passenger__**...**_

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><p><strong>Passengers<strong>

_The cry of the Need inside, __**the entity**__, the silent watcher, the cold quiet thing, the one that laughs, the Moondancer. The me that was not-me, the thing that mocked and laughed and came calling with its hunger. With the Need. And the Need was very strong now, very strong, very much ready now- and still it waited and watched, and it made me wait and watch._

_The plead of the Should outside, __**the being**__, the loud do-gooder, the warm thing, the one that cheers, the Sundancer. The me that was still not-me, the thing that tried to understand and comfort and came calling with its eagerness. With the Should. And the Should is not as strong as the Need, but it is no shadow either, its __persistent__- it __doesn't__ back down or get discouraged, its touch is light and gentle, but it leaks through._

My name is Dexter Morgan and I'm a blood spatter expert for the Miami police department. I'm naturally handsome and charming, but there's something about me that only my foster-father, Harry, knows. And now that he's passed, no one else will discover it. Something so horrible happened when I was just a child, 3, before Harry adopted me into the Morgan family. I don't know what it was that happened, and Harry would never speak of it. But when we finally did talk, it wasn't about that but instead what was happening with me.

_You're different, Dexter._

He knew what was inside of me, even before I really did. He was like that, it was just him and it was what made him The Good Cop. He told me that he knew what was wrong with me, why it was I felt the way that I did- the fact that I didn't really feel.

Empty-Dexter was me.

But there was something inside, the Need was what my twelve year old self had named it. Harry figured me when I was fourteen. It was a good thing too because the Need that filled my body, was getting more and more. Harry was the one that named it my Dark Passenger. Something dark that filled my body that was not-me, a passenger that wanted to take me for a ride. At the moment, killing those pets was keeping the Dark Passenger's seatbelt locked.

But Harry told me things, things that would change me, my life, who I am.

_There are plenty of pe__o__ple who deserve it, Dex._

And so he taught me. How to be squared away and not get caught, not leave a trace, be all but invisible. The only way a cop could teach a killer. The Code of Harry. It was a code that I abided by since I was fourteen and will continue to do so. And with the Code of Harry, the Dark Passenger continued to stay just that- a passenger-of-Dexter.

Until nineteen, that was.

Harry died when I was nineteen, that was the first time that my Dark Passenger unbuckled and grabbed the wheel. I didn't kill Harry, but I did kill the nurse that tried to force him into the afterlife. And without Harry by my side, to help me with my Dark Passenger, I got driven around like Bugs Bunny eats his carrots. It was a comparison that was childish, but there it was.

I didn't know how long it lasted, and felt surprised when I found myself mourning Harry's loss by letting my Dark Passenger take lead. He never really left of course, he'd come to me sometimes, handout advice, coach me.

But, my Dark Passenger was running things. It had a taste for blood, Harry didn't like the blood, it was to messy, to many variables to get caught with. And then it happened, it was a whisper, but it reached my ears. It was familiar. And dear-old-Dexter got a surprise.

It'd been there the whole time that the Dark Passenger had, darkness was just louder. But this was persistent. This was my Light Passenger. It was different than my Dark Passenger, but nearly the same. It still drove me after those who deserve to be put to ground, but showed me ways to be squared away just as Harry had said- the though way that my Light Passenger put it wasn't quite like that.

It evened things out, seemed to keep my Dark Passenger a little at bay. I wasn't sure which I preferred. I liked the Darkness, but if this was what I am, then so be it. But if I had no other choice than this, then I was going to do it the Harry Way. The way that my father taught me.

So I embraced them, both my Light and Dark Passengers and together, the three of us, we were pitched perfect.

There was a rule that Harry had though, something that was big, something that if I did, would get me caught.

_Emotional involvement._

Harry's rule had been don't get emotionally involved with the people around me, or the killers that I was after. I wasn't getting involved with people, but instead monsters. Myself and my Passengers. Once I fully accepted them, they gained names that were not so oblique.

My Dark Passenger became Sam, Darkness was him. He was patient and he waited, but the blood was there, the craving. It didn't matter where it came from, as long as there was red, red, red running.

My Light Passenger was called Dean, Light was him. He was eager and desperate, but the blood wasn't there, it was clean and it was crisp. Rough around the edges but clean. It was sterile, just like Harry like it and I preferred.

_The cry of the Need inside, __**the entity**__, the silent watcher, the cold quiet thing, the one that laughs, the Moondancer. The me that was__ the-me__, the thing that mocked and laughed and came calling with its hunger. With the Need. And the Need was very strong now, very strong, very much ready now- and still it waited and watched, and it made me wait and watch._

_The plead of the Should outside, __**the being**__, the loud do-gooder, the warm thing, the one that cheers, the Sundancer. The me that was __another of me__, the thing that tried to understand and comfort and came calling with its eagerness. With the Should. And the Should is not as strong as the Need, but it is no shadow either, its __persistent__- it __doesn't__ back down or get discouraged, its touch is light and gentle, but it leaks through._

They are me and I am them.

_f_


End file.
